


Impressions in Watercolor

by EuphoniousGlow



Category: Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoniousGlow/pseuds/EuphoniousGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final Fantasy drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Company of Devils

The place was loud and crowded, air blurred with the eye-stinging haze of cigarette smoke, just the way Tseng liked it. He sat at the end of the bar, seeming out of place in his clean suit and tie, hands clasped around a mug of cheap beer. It was the best kind, he thought, breathing in the bitter smell. Tasted like nothing and got you drunk quick. Tseng stared into the golden-brown liquid, hardly listening to the blues music playing in the smoky room. He didn't have to worry about being interrupted tonight. No one was dumb enough to pick a fight with a Turk.

He took a sip, closing his eyes and savoring the sharp taste. The beer was a little too dilute for his taste, but it would do. It wasn't like he was a beer connoisseur, anyway. He prefered wine, but tonight he just wanted to forget. He had politely declined when Reno and the others invited him to join them at the more expensive bar in the upper district of Midgar. He didn't trust himself in his co-workers' presence if he got intoxicated. He didn't want them to have to drive him home.

Like well-oiled clockwork, his mind replayed the events of the day. He'd seen Aerith again. He'd threatened her mother and a little girl. He'd hit her. He wouldn't forget the look of betrayal on her face. The alcohol loosened his carefully built restraints and let his thoughts flow unbridled. He supposed he loved the girl, as much as he could love anyone or anything. And he had handed her to the devils. He laughed bitterly. Wasn't he the worst of all, then, to prefer the company of devils over that of an angel?

Tseng smiled at his scattered reflection, and toasted to oblivion.


	2. Traitor

Edea couldn't bear to look at herself in the mirror. Because instead of her own face, she saw tattoos inked like warrior paint across her skin and ornaments decorating the long ebony river of her hair. She saw not the Matron but the Sorceress, and when she looked at Rinoa she felt a terrible shock of familiarity.

She could not bear to have her husband touch her. Because when he did, she imagined young hands hot against her skin and heard not gentle whispers but impassioned, treacherous dreams breathed in her ear. She lay awake at night, fearing to sleep for dreaming of her sins. She could see the hurt in Cid's eyes, but she deserved to be punished for what she had done to Seifer.

She could only hope that, someday, they would forgive her.


	3. But With A Whimper

Irvine didn't trust in anything he couldn't see. He shied away from magics and polished his guns. The idea of sharing his mind with a spirit was ridiculous, so he rejected the mysterious powers of the Guardian Forces, becoming one of the few students of Garden to not make use of them. And so when he saw them again, he remembered. Squall, Quisty, Zell, Sefie. They gazed at him with eyes blankened by GF whispers, a meeting of strangers that was really a reunion (but he was the only one to know it). He would have to start off fresh and earn their trust, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed. 

The operation was easier than expected, although when he was finally staring through the scope lens he found all his repressed feelings coming through. The sorceress lifted her head, and her eyes met his for a moment. Raven hair he used to touch, a gentle occasional touch, a smell of lavender and green tea: Matron.

His finger trembled. He pulled the trigger.


	4. Scars

Paine woke with the sunrise every morning. She walked quietly past the other girls' beds (Yuna sleeping quietly on her side, her face betraying nothing of her dreams; Rikku snoring softly on her stomach, her hair a wild mess that would be hell to untangle) and walked into the bathroom. As she undressed for her shower, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She paused to examine her body; skin too pale, eyes that strange red almond, arms hugging her waist as though holding in the memories there. There were no scars on her skin, but inside she felt the weight of remembered glances and caresses and whispered words. 

She shivered and stepped into the shower, putting the water hot enough to burn. She scrubbed her skin, washing away the memories of sweat and gunpowder, pyreflies and betrayal. Last night she'd dreamed about him, and yesterday afternoon she had met him face to face for the first time in two years. He hadn't changed; still the cold eyes framed in glasses, the sarcastic smile, the fake arm and leg. He stood there so casually, looked at her with eyes that she'd only seen glimpses of in the dark. He showed no guilt for what he'd done, hadn't begged her for forgiveness (and she wouldn't have forgiven him if he had). And yet, the dream she had was of the old dance, the firelight reflecting in brown eyes and fumbling limbs, rough hands tracing trails of sin against her cold skin. 

There was a sound at the door, breaking Paine out of her thoughts. _"Painey!"_ came the disgruntled voice of Rikku. "You've been in there forever!"

Paine turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself. She was glad that she had found the Gullwings, because Rikku and Yuna always brought her back when she was faltering on the edge. She wasn't sure she would ever erase the scars from her mind, but knew that they would eventually have to fade.


	5. Brothers

The boy was hopeless. He could barely hold a sword in his thin arms and his movements were hesitant and awkward. He did not stand out in abilities nor enthusiasm. Yet somehow he caught Luzzu's eye. 

He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow after a rigorous drill. As he walked back to his tent, he noticed the boy leaning against his sword, breathing heavily. He asked the rookie's name.

"Gatta, sir," was the reply. And somehow, they became friends. 

Luzzu valued his patience. It was the one thing he could rely on in a fight. And he needed it when it came to helping Gatta. He made it his personal project to help the younger man, even when his other comrades told him it was a hopeless case. They would stay out on the beach at night, sparring in the cool sand, and Gatta's confidence grew each day. They ran together along the winding paths carved into the cliffs, spray from the waterfalls mingling in their hair. They would race in the warm waters by the island, then collapse exhausted in the shallows. Their friendship grew with Gatta's confidence. And Luzzu realized that he had built his routine around the boy, and he couldn't imagine not meeting Gatta by the entrance to the town every morning.

One day, he ate lunch with Gatta in his tent. Luzzu regarded Gatta with great pride.

"I hardly recognize you as the boy who couldn't hold his sword three months ago," he said, reaching out to touch the boy's arm.

"Thanks to you, sir." And his smile was as warm and comforting as sunlight. "I would be nothing without you."

Somehow, Luzzu knew that his life was never going to be the same. But he would have it no other way.


	6. Breathe

Breathing steadily, strides smooth and even, Paine runs. She runs to forget, to put just a little more distance behind herself and the past. She runs to feel the pain tightening her stomach, the backs of her legs like Flan flesh. But most of all, she runs because she is alive. The air squeezed from her lungs and through her parted lips reminds her, because sometimes she feels that she has forgotten this essential fact. She's been dead inside for two years, and sometimes she needs reminding that she isn't dead on the outside too. She pushes herself, passing other travelers like a swift, pale ghost. The sun is shining and its light is blinding. She squints into it, feeling the heat on her face. Today the Ice Queen is melting.

She settles into a familiar rhythm, carefully pacing her strides. She can't remember when she first began to run three days a week, but she knows it was only a short time before she joined the Gullwings. Any events that occurred before she met Yuna and Rikku are lost to her, and she finds no peace in returning to them. Running is good for many things: strong legs to chase rival sphere hunters, endurance for fighting fiends, and also for leaving the world behind. She tells her friends (so she's decided they mean that much to her, after all) that she runs to be healthy, but being a Gullwing takes up all of her daily exercise quota anyway. So they know it's something else.

The Travel Agency rises into view over the horizon. Four miles. The wind hits her face as she breaks into a sprint, and she would laugh except she can't remember the sound of it anymore. A hover passes her by, shining in the sunlight. 

She enters the agency and sits down next to Rikku and Yuna, who are enjoying their breakfast at one of the tables. Rikku looks at Paine's disheveled hair and flushed face and remarks, "Gee, Paine, you really know how to overdo it." Yuna says nothing. Paine turns away from the concern in her eyes.

"I was just getting some fresh air," she says, and they understand.

She picks up her water bottle and drinks half of it in one gulp. Sure, running is good for forgetting, but it's also good for remembering.

She isn't quite sure she's ready for that yet.


End file.
